


It's Hot and Akward

by Noxtorious



Series: Sand Dunes-Winding Sands 'verse [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Gen, Winding Sands 'Verse, its like totally hot out, small mention of Bill Murray
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-28
Updated: 2014-02-28
Packaged: 2018-01-14 01:07:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1247008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noxtorious/pseuds/Noxtorious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's really hot out and there's no crimes happening. Sherlock and John have a day in the flat to themselves and a little conversation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Look! Something to add to the Winding Sands 'verse. I been working on this one for a while and after a bunch of drafts later, I got it down. A sequel is not on the way anytime soon but little one off like this will happen. 
> 
> Also, I'll be posting a few world building notes on my Tumblr when I get the chance.

The heat wave was starting to get unbearable. It was already bad enough that London itself was melting like an ice cream sundae. People that were outside dragged themselves through the heat, looking miserable. Sherlock happened to be one of the people who couldn't stand the heat. He couldn't wear his Belstaff and his suits had become restricting. Even in the flat, the heat crawled through every nook and cranny.

The fans they had were useless and the windows let in no breeze. The detective grumbled in annoyance at the heat, fanning his shirt off his body. Maybe attempting to make a better air conditioner has not been the best idea. Sherlock was not enjoying himself and neither was his flatmate. Bill had left earlier for some meeting with a den of Fae but even he had been more snappy than usual.

The only person who seemed to be enjoying the heat was John. The sandman was slithering around the flat, doing housework. Every now and then, John would stick his head out the window with a happy smile. In Sherlock's opinion, there was nothing to smile about. It was bloody hot and there were no crimes. He couldn't help but twist his head to the side so he could see John better.

"Why are you so cheerful about the bloody heat?" Sherlock asked.

John startled at the sound of his voice. He guessed not talking for most of the morning did that. John pulled his head out the window and smiled. He slithered over to Sherlock and leaned on the arm of sofa, staring at his face upside down.

"The heat is quite refreshing. It's not sand heat but it reminds me of underground heat. It's warm and you can feel the sun's heat on your skin." John's tentacles wriggled in delight at his description. "Is it not pleasant for you?"

Not pleasant was an understatement. "Not in the slightest. Quite unbearable."

John shrugged at his words and tapped his nose, making him go cross eyed. Sherlock heard him say something about humans being strange before moving to the window. Sherlock wondered what kind of biological differences made it so John loved the heat. He wanted to experiment on the idea but the thought of having to get up was too much. He mentally made a note for a later date. Unfortunately, he was still hot and boredom was just about killing him.

Bill should be here to entertain him. Grabbing his mobile off the coffee table, he texted to see when Bill would be returning. The response that he got was not what he wanted though.

**Not going to be back for a few hours. Nottingham is nice and cool unlike the city. B**

**Did you know faeries serve fantastic tea? Neither did I. Ask John to entertain you. B**

Sherlock glared at the texts as if Bill could see him. Damn the man for being so diligent about work. Though, getting John to relive of boredom was an idea. He didn't have anything to do after all. He slowly got into a sitting position with a grimace as his shirt clung to his back. Sherlock figured he could learn about John as they rarely were alone in the flat.

"John, what does your species do for fun?" he asked.

John glanced at him and leaned on the windowsill. "Why? You were just complaining that it was hot."he said.

"But I'm bored. No crimes are being committed and my pancreas experiment won't be conclusive in this heat. Tell me so I can be entertained."

"I guess. Usually we make sand sculptures, practice runes, wrestle, and play what I have learned is tag. Sometimes we would put playful runes on the defeated to make the game more challenging." John smiled wistfully and continued to speak once Sherlock looked intrigued. "I remember one exciting game where we played tag in the dunes, jumping out the sand like the mermaids. But you only got points on how many tricks you could pull off while in the air and dodging the person who was it. The losers were not too fond of having skin changing runes on their bodies for the next few days though."

Sherlock raised an eyebrow as John giggled at the memory. It definitely was one of the most strange and appeasing sounds he heard. John's voice became at least an octave higher and the distinct sounds of hissing came out. But, he was getting distracted. The wrestling and tag would have to wait another day. Ms. Hudson did not need to raise the rent because something would break in the chaos.

Also, it was bloody hot. Runes were the safest choice and he was interested in what John meant. John kept saying it was magic but Sherlock was still skeptical. There had to be some kind of scientific method to it. Besides, the experiments could be endless. That was decidedly not boring.

Sitting up and trying to ignore how sticky his skin felt was, Sherlock looked excited. "Show me the process of rune making."

 

 ___________________________________________

 

"Fascinating. What does that rune do?"

"This usually can store sound but this paper is too flimsy. It'll hold a note if that. Anyways, we sometimes use them for lullabies for the children."

Sherlock wrote all the information down he could get from John. He wasn't sure how much time had passed but a quick glance had told him that the sun had just gone down. His body wasn't sweating so much as the temperature had went down. His focus had been straight on what he discovered. There were just all kinds of runes for John's species. Some were complicated like those to numb pain, contraceptives and surprisingly, language translators.

Then there were simple ones to clean someone, keep food fresh and dry and make fireworks (or sky brightens as John called them). It was just fascinating and so much to experiment with.

He had been initially shocked that he could activate the few John drew for him. John had explained that it was Sherlock's will that made it work. Sherlock was excited to know that the runes he was discovering were just of the sandfolk variety. That meant that other creatures had to use the same method. The experiments he could do was already expanding. Still, there was a few more pressing questions to ask.

They had been on his mind ever since he saw the first pictures of John. Watching John vacate his seat beside him to start the kettle, Sherlock decided it was best to ask now. He was already told some runes were permanent and appeared on sandfolk's skin by magic.

"Are your rune tattoos significant?" Sherlock asked.

John was reaching for some clean teacups when Sherlock asked. He froze before grabbing the teacups off the shelf. John looked guarded now and the muscles in his back were tense. Sherlock could see that an answer was being prepared even as the kettle was filled with water.

"Of course. There's one for your title once mature. I guess it would be jobs for you humans. Some for mates, rank, relationships and all that. They always appear on the lower back or on one's carrier," John made a vague motion to the space around his head. "Usually they can't be marred unless in extreme circumstances."

Sherlock nodded in understanding. It answered his question and avoided it at the same time. John was hiding something and the detective was nothing but persistent, regardless of feelings.

"What the runes of the base of your spine mean then?" Sherlock said, pressing his hand together under his chin.

John looked even more uncomfortable as he turn to look at Sherlock. His body seem more tense than before, one of tentacles winding around his waist as if to hide the tattoos from his view. John wasn't even looking at him. The sandman's left hand trembled before tightening into a fist.

"I don't want to talk about it. Those runes mean nothing." John said, his voice carefully blank.

This only made Sherlock even more curious to figure out his newest puzzle. "Don't lie to me John. You told me that every rune had a meaning and just stated that these are important. Are they indicators of your healer and warrior status? Obviously one of them has to be but you have four. I assume one has to be status but then that still leave t-"

Sherlock found himself cut off from his deduction as John slammed his hand against the counter. The tile cracked under the force and left a small crater near the sink. John looked livid.

"They mean nothing! This conversation is over." John snapped, slithering out the kitchen.

Sherlock had not expected that John would become so angry. He watched him go upstairs and slammed the door, making the frame rattle. Why did John get so upset? It couldn't be shameful as John never hid the markings. But it seemed he did not want to acknowledge their existence either. It was quite the conundrum. One he intended to find out with all the research he had now at his disposable.


	2. Chapter 2

John threw himself on the bed with a huff. Sherlock was a fascinating and smart human but lacked tact. He only decided to humor him because he did look miserable in the heat. It was too bad the humans couldn't tolerate heat like his species. John shook his head as if to dispel his thoughts. He was getting distracted.

Wriggling his tentacles, he wrapped the sheets around himself in a tight cocoon. The feeling grounded his thoughts and he was able to unwind. The one thing he tried to not think about was his family. He barely looked at the tattoos to keep the bad thoughts away.

"Mary." Even speaking her name made his throat feel constricted. She and their baby were lost to time. It might have been a few years ago but it still felt fresh. They were relocating to their original caves through the river when she was sucked into the current of a boat propeller. John could feel his stomach turn as he held back tears. There had never been a more gruesome sight.

It was different from seeing bodies on the battlefield. Those were explainable. Nothing was more terrifying to a sand person than being killed by a boat. Just thinking about it made his stomach churn. Perfect. He was definitely going to have nightmares tonight.

John curled up into a loose circle, wishing that he had some sand to help quiet his head. There was silence for a couple of minutes before he heard knocking at the door.

"John. You are most likely still upset with me and I came to...apologize." Sherlock said from the other side of the door.

John rolled over to face the closed door. "Are you truly sorry?"

John could imagine the eye roll Sherlock did as he said,"If I say yes, will you make me tea?"

Unbelievable. He let a huff and rolled back over to face the open window. The heat was more comfort than Sherlock's horrible not apology. The door opening only made him curl tighter on himself. The bed dipped slightly as Sherlock sat down. John didn't want to hear anything that the man wanted to say unless it was an actual apology. There was silence for a few minutes before Sherlock spoke.

"John I believe you should know something about me before you continue to stay angry at me. I am not a nice nor particularly sensitive man. This will not be the last time I hurt your feelings or take advantage of your kindness. More often than not, you will want to punch me in the face. Let this apology be for all the things I've done and will do." Sherlock said.

John turned his head to stare at Sherlock's back. He could tell that the man was sincere and was telling more about himself than before in that small speech. With a sigh, John sat up and scooted over to rest his head between Sherlock's shoulder blades. He hid a smile as the man tensed up at his touch. He curled a tentacle around his wrist and gave his hand a gentle pat. He was an arse but he had something good in him, no matter how small and self serving it was.

"You're forgiven. Next time I'll just give you a friendly hit. How about I teach you a special kind of tea that my people make? We use it when one is in danger of overheating,which I believe you are close to. It has a wee bit of ice magic in it that I think isn't harmful to humans." John said in a cheerful tone, releasing Sherlock and getting out the bed.

Apparently, a tentative guess was good enough for Sherlock. He didn't bother waiting for him as he could hear his bare feet walking behind him. Once he said the word magic, Sherlock made a noise that John was not too sure of. It sounded like a mix of disbelief and intrigue. There was no doubt that teaching such a curious human magic was going to be quite fun.


End file.
